


tell me you love me (come back and haunt me)

by sleepyboys



Category: MBLAQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, but ye someone dies, kind of like a james bond AU honestly, no graphic depictions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5222663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyboys/pseuds/sleepyboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jihoon has never loved himself, but he loved Joon (oh, did he love Joon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me you love me (come back and haunt me)

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't written in a long, long time, and while I'm working on other fics, I wrote this and made myself sad.  
> So, yeah. James Bond AU, with Jihoon clearly being 007, Hyori is Q, Joon is R, Jisub is 005.  
> Maybe I'll make a series out of this, who knows!  
> This was inspired by a quote that makes the rounds on tumblr from time to time: "'You can't love someone until you love yourself first.' Bullshit. I have never loved myself. But you? Oh god, I loved you so much, I forgot what hating myself felt like"  
> As always, excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes.

The aftermath of what is now classified as ‘Skyfall’ is messy, to say the least. Headquarters must be rebuilt, but the world doesn’t stop spinning just because people died.

People die every day, this, Jihoon has learned with time. People die every day and the world has no time to remember those who have fallen, it just keeps going and going.

It is all part of the job, he supposes.

Q branch relocates to the tunnels, and so do the 00s. Hyori looks tired, even more so than she normally does. She’s had to update her systems, build new ones, relocate machines and bury the members of her branch that died after the last explosion—but only bury them, mourning will have to wait until after they’re settled in.

Jihoon has no time to do such thing. No time to mourn the fallen M, no time to mourn his fellow 00s, and no time to mourn _him_.

(The same night Q branch ends their transfer to the tunnels, Jihoon saves all of _his_ things in a box, and buries _his_ memory deep, deep in his heart.

This, the world won’t be able to take from him. This, at least.)

-

Something makes him face Hyori for the first time since the relocation of Q branch. Whether it is for the fact that she is his last connection to _him_ , or because he needs someone to share his grief with, he doesn’t know.

Hyori doesn’t look up from her computer, typing away. She must be building new, better security systems. Jihoon can almost hear her train of thought, similar to his own: _How did I let this happen, this can’t happen again, not after—_

“Q,” he says, hands in his pockets. It’s hard to keep his voice steady when he doesn’t know what to say—what he could say to make it better. “I am sorry.”

It’s not enough, he knows. Jihoon wants to say so many things; _I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. He should be here, not me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

The truth is, words will never be enough. They can’t give bring _him_ back.

He takes a picture out of the pocket of his coat, and leaves it on the table, besides the computer Hyori is working on.

Just as Jihoon is about to leave, Hyori speaks up. “007…” her voice is faint, almost a whisper. “Don’t. He wouldn’t want you to be.”

 _What he wants doesn’t matter anymore_ , Jihoon thinks, stopping on his tracks. _He’s gone, and it’s my fault._

Jihoon turns around, and Hyori is looking at him expectantly. Maybe she is waiting for his breakdown, and wouldn’t _that_ be a sight. The big, strong 007 breaking down in the middle of Q branch.

Instead, he smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He wonders if Hyori’s noticed that none of his actions are sincere ever since that moment. “I know.”

Hyori sighs, and goes back to typing away. “No, you don’t.”

-

_The kid is still wet behind the ears and Jihoon can’t figure out what Hyori was thinking when she hired him to be second in command (okay, maybe he can—since the kid is Hyori’s brother and a genius, too)_

_His official position is that of R, but he insists on being called Joon, while his real name is Changsun. It may be a bit unwise to disclose such personal information after only barely having met Jihoon, but when Hyori points it out, the kid just smiles._

_He reminds Jihoon of the way he used to be, young and full of hope._

_Naïve, sweet, kind and caring, this job is only going to destroy the kid, Jihoon thinks. This job will leave him lonely and bitter and then they will have another traitor in their hands. The kindest people always suffer the most._

_There is also fire in his eyes, something Jihoon can’t quite pick up on, can’t quite describe, but it’s there, and maybe—maybe he’ll stay for good—_

-

Jisub finds him in the middle of his living room watching TV, half-drunk and with bags under his eyes. Jisub gently takes the whisky bottle from his hands and goes to the sink to pour out the rest of it.

Jihoon can’t find it in himself to be angry at him. 005 has always detested drinking, and he only does it when absolutely necessary—which means, only on missions and only so he won’t look suspicious by not drinking despite being in a bar.

“This is not you, Jihoon,” Jisub says, sitting down on the couch, next to Jihoon.

 _You don’t know me_ , he wants to say, but then he remembers the way Joon would scold him for being rude, and decides to not reply instead. His silence is answer enough, though. He’s known Jisub since their training days, and although he prides himself on being unreadable, it's like he's an open book to Jisub, who nods tightly.

“No one could have known,” Jisub continues. “This isn’t your fault, Jihoon.”

Jihoon chuckles. “M is dead because of me. Hyori lost a brother because of me. Q branch lost a valuable member because of me.” He stares at his hands. “The only thing I’m good at is at fucking things up, and shooting a gun.”

Jisub sighs. “He wouldn’t want this.”

 _No, he wouldn’t_ , Jihoon tries to not think of the way _he_ looked laughing under the sun, of how soft his lips were, of how kind he was, of how he looked at Jihoon for who he really was and stayed—

He also tries to not think of how he was the one to destroy all of that.

Jisub sighs again and stays for the rest of the night.

-

_It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and the last thing Jihoon wants is to cook, even though he had nothing but coffee and some toast for breakfast._

_Joon’s just showered and is now on bed, reading something on his tablet. He looks good enough to eat, but would become upset if Jihoon tried to initiate something right after he just showered._

_“What do you want to eat?” Jihoon asks Joon. He puts his arm around Joon’s waist, and closes his eyes. For a moment, it’s almost as if he isn’t someone who kills people in the name of his country._

_“Italian,” Joon quickly replies, drying his hair one last time before he throws the towel on the floor. “Although I think you’re sick of it, since you just spent two weeks in Italy.”_

_“What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger. A bit more of Italian food won’t do me wrong,” Jihoon jokingly replies. Joon giggles, his hand reaching out to cup Jihoon’s face. Jihoon closes his eyes and Joon kisses him, soft and sweet and maybe this wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of his life—_

-

He wakes up and instantly reaches for his gun once he sees someone moving inside his kitchen. Jisub comes out of the kitchen and immediately holds his hands up once he catches sight of Jihoon.

“It’s me, 007, put that gun down or I swear—“ Jisub says, slowly approaching Jihoon, who is breathing heavily. Once he’s close enough, he takes the gun from Jihoon’s hands. “Jesus,” Jisub sighs.

Jihoon works on getting his breathing under control. “I—I’m sorry.” He mutters.

“We all have those nights,” Jisub replies, going back to the kitchen to hide the gun as far away from Jihoon as he possibly can.

Jihoon doesn’t realize he’s speaking out loud when he says: “Is it always going to feel like this?”

Jisub sits down again, and hands Jihoon a glass of water. He downs it in one gulp. “Some things never stop hurting.” Jisub replies. “But we have to keep going, because that is what we do. Because the world can’t suddenly stop so we can keep up with it.”

-

A month passes and he doesn’t even think about visiting Joon’s grave until Hyori suggests it.

He’s about to leave Q branch, already having returned his equipment, when Hyori calls out to him. “Jihoon,” she says, one of the rare times she uses his given name. “There’s a nice little cemetery on the south side of the town. Private, and very peaceful. He would have liked that place.”

Jihoon nods tightly. “I thought I would let you know,” Hyori continues. “I think you deserve closure.”

What Hyori doesn’t know is that this particular wound will never heal, but what Hyori doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

-

_“My sister practically raised me,” Joon tells Jihoon, his head on Jihoon’s chest while they pretend to watch some TV movie. “She’s so smart, she got a job to put herself through college, and to raise me. I owe everything that I am to her.”_

_Jihoon smiles. “I don’t have any siblings,” he comments. “I would have been a terrible brother.”_

_Joon giggles. “You would have terrified your siblings.” He closes his eyes. “Poor Yoggun probably had enough with just you.”_

_Jihoon chuckles. “He most certainly did.”_

-

He only visits because there have been too many sleepless nights, too many drunken evenings and lonely mornings. This may not bring closure, but Jihoon supposes that it’s something, at least. Something to remember him by and pay respect to his memory.

He leaves a bouquet of white roses on the grave. _Lee Changsun_ , it reads. The day he died in his sister’s arms, and suddenly, Jihoon can recall that day perfectly. The way he had screamed for Jihoon, the way he had pleaded for Jihoon to save his sister, who screamed and kicked and held his corpse close until Jihoon tore her away from him—

He stares at the tomb until the groundskeeper reminds him it’s time to leave.

-

_The last time he loved, she betrayed him and died. The last time he loved, he thought his heart had turned to stone. He had sworn to never let anyone in again, to never trust anyone the way he had trusted her._

_But with Joon, everything seems so easy. He doesn’t mind Jihoon’s scars, even the ones that aren’t visible. He doesn’t mind when Jihoon wakes up in the middle of the night, covered in cold sweat and whispering a woman’s name, on the verge of tears. He doesn’t mind a lot of things that he should care about, and he’s seen deep inside Jihoon’s mind and soul, and despite all of that, despite all of the demons that haunt Jihoon, he has decided to stay._

_Joon looks up from his laptop, only to stare at Jihoon. “What is it?” he asks, smiling._

_“Nothing,” Jihoon replies, and also smiles. “I was just thinking.”_

_“’Bout what?” Joon says, and goes back to typing away on his laptop._

_“We should go on a vacation,” Jihoon says. “You ever been to Italy?”_

-

Hyori’s the one waiting by the door of his flat, this time. She doesn’t look as tired, but she somehow looks older. Grief does strange things to people, Jihoon guesses. He probably looks worse than her.

Jihoon doesn’t say a word, barely nods at Hyori’s general direction and opens the door to his place, with Hyori stepping in behind him. “I only came to give you something,” Hyori says, taking a package out of her bag. “He would have wanted you to have this.” She says, handing Jihoon the package.

Jihoon rips the package open, only to find a simple, silver oval locket. Joon used to wear it all the time, but would never let Jihoon see what he kept inside of it. Jihoon carefully opens it, and finds a picture of Joon’s family: a younger Hyori, radiant and smiling, with her arm around an older man who must be their father. A young Joon, hugging a woman who must be their mother. The picture-perfect family.

The other picture is of Jihoon and Joon. Jihoon remembers the day Joon took it, one of their lazy Sunday afternoons, which were spent mostly in bed. Jihoon has his arms around Joon and is kissing his cheek, while Joon’s laughing and he looks so beautiful, as he always did and—

“I thought I would give it to you,” Hyori says, her voice breaking, though she politely ignores Jihoon’s tears. “Since you barely have anything to remember him by.”

“I—I can’t,” Jihoon mutters. “Hyori—you should—“

“It’s alright, Jihoon.” Hyori quickly replies. Jihoon sits down on the couch and doesn’t notice when she leaves.

-

_Jisub finds out about his relationship with Joon because of a slip of Jihoon’s tongue. “Congratulations, I guess,” he says, trying to not sound like an asshole._

_Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut it.” he replies._

_“You know,” Jisub continues, obviously amused at the whole deal. “They say you can’t love someone unless you love yourself first.”_

_“A lesson all 00s should learn. Maybe a bit of self-love would make all of our jobs easier, and would keep all of you from sleeping with all of the super villain clichés in the world,” Hyori says. “Come, 007. Your equipment is ready.”_

-

 _You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first_ , Jihoon thinks, standing in front of Joon’s grave yet again. This time, he’s brought a bouquet of forget-me-nots. A reminder to himself, but how could he ever forget Joon? His soft eyes, his kind smiles, the way he looked under the sun in Venice’s streets—

“Jisub used to say that, you know?” Jihoon whispers, closing his eyes. “He’s an asshole and a firm believer in self-love and all that shit,” he continues. “But I think it’s bullshit, because I have never loved myself.”

How could he? With blood-stained hands and cold eyes. His hands never tremble when he pulls the trigger, his heart doesn’t even skip a beat and he never doubts, never has regrets because he does what he does for his country.

But Joon loved him—he takes a deep breath, and all the memories seem to come back at once. “But you?” he sighs, and he can’t tell when tears started to fall down his face. “Oh god, I loved you so much—“ _so much, the way I never loved her and the way I have never loved anyone_ , he thinks. “—I forgot how it felt to hate myself.”

The groundskeeper once again reminds Jihoon it’s time to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! I appreciate any kind of feedback.


End file.
